Knitting
by Bottlebrush
Summary: Shortly after the start of 6th year, Hermione has a chat with Lupin and stops making elf hats, but carries on knitting.


Title: Knitting

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or its characters. J. K. Rowling does.

Summary: Shortly after the start of 6th year at Hogwarts, Hermione has a chat with Lupin and stops making elf hats, but carries on knitting.

Hermione was happy. Her fingers were busy with her knitting while she committed to memory the contents of The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6), open beside her on the grass. During the summer holidays, she had bought a large quantity of wool in various colours to make into clothes for the Hogwarts house-elves, and now a few weeks into the school year she was enjoying some unaccustomed solitude while her friends were busy at Quidditch practice.

She was, therefore, not altogether pleased when someone came and sat on the grass beside her, until she looked up and saw who it was.

"Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Lupin had been one of her favourite teachers three years before, and being a member of two oppressed minorities, was as worthy of her care and concern as any house-elf.

"Important meeting," he said.

"But why here at Hogwarts?"

"I expect to find out in an hour's time. Elf hats?" he asked, picking up one of her completed pieces of knitting.

"Yes. Don't start," Hermione said defensively.

"Start what?"

"Telling me I shouldn't be doing this. That the elves are happy as they are, they enjoy being slaves, they wouldn't know what to do with freedom if they had it ……"

"I wasn't going to say anything of the sort," said Lupin.

"Why not? Everyone else does."

"They are wrong. That argument is the excuse used by racists and oppressors ever since people started oppressing each other. Take no notice of it."

Hermione beamed. "So you agree with what I'm doing?"

"I didn't say that. You are right in principle, but this activity will accomplish nothing. You see, the clothes have to be given by the house-elf's master. In the case of Hogwarts elves, that would be Dumbledore, or perhaps one of the Governors. Not a student."

"Oh. So I've been wasting my time?"

Lupin examined the elf hat. "Not at all," he said. "The quality of the knitting has greatly improved in the past year. The acquisition of a skill is never a waste of time. And I rather think you've had fun doing it, and that's never a waste of time either."

"But I haven't been helping the elves. What can I do about them?"

"I think, for the time being, that will have to be left to Dobby, to spread the word at grass-roots level. It will be a slow process, but it will happen. Progress is inevitable." He was silent for a few moments, then said hesitantly, "Hermione, I'm going to trust you with……not exactly a secret, but something only a few people know."

"Something about house-elves?"

"Yes. Two things. They have racial memory."

"That means they can remember things that happened to their ancestors?"

"Yes, but with house-elves it's not only their direct blood-line. They can remember things that happened to any house-elves, and there are a few who keep the memories of _all_ house-elves."

"Is Dobby one like that?"

"No. In fact Dobby's racial memory is poor. That's probably why he's more of an individual than most of his people. The other thing is – I have to ask you to keep this to yourself for now – long ago, before the first Goblin Rebellion, the house-elves rebelled."

"_What?_"

"Yes. It's been hushed up, it's not in the textbooks you use in school. But you can find it in the Restricted Section of the library. The rebellion was put down with extreme force and brutality and is a matter of shame and horror to those few in the wizard world who know of it. And the elves remember with terror how their ancestors were tortured and murdered for taking part in the rising. They remember it as if it happened to themselves. Add that to the peaceful, industrious habits which are natural to them, and you get the willing slaves who are terrified of the very idea of freedom."

"Then is there nothing I can do?"

"Dobby must feel very isolated sometimes. It would be helpful if you could be there for him to talk to occasionally. Not to advise him, but just to listen, encourage and reassure him. He seems very attached to Harry, but Harry is often too busy for him. Maybe you could put a little pressure on there, too."

"Yes, I will. But what am I to do with all this wool?"

"You'll think of something." Lupin smiled. "I'm going indoors now. It's getting too cold for me out here."

Hermione watched him go. He looked as though the autumn breeze might blow him over. No wonder he felt cold. He was too thin, and his robes were thin. He wasn't taking care of himself.

Suddenly she smiled, picked up the bag of wool and turned it upside down on the grass, spilling the coloured balls of yarn on the ground. She would knit Lupin a scarf, a nice thick warm scarf to keep the cold out. She had so many colours here, she could make a rainbow scarf. No, he'd never wear it; he wasn't the flamboyant type. Besides, now Sirius was dead, it might seem tactless, cruel even.

Instead she picked out balls of green, brown, gold – yes, that nice rust colour too. Earthy, foresty colours, these would suit him, he would look lovely in them.

The elf hats she would make into balls for Crookshanks to play with.

Happily, she began casting on. She'd have it finished by Christmas, easy.


End file.
